to wade or browse amidst the rubble of love.

Shame is the swampland of the soul.”    —Carl Jung.
“Do you ever want to make love to your own story? To the parts of you that you work so hard to grow? Are you able to sit on a rooftop of red curls and say, ‘holy shit, I built this?’ Everything you need is inside you already.”   —Rebel Diaz

I am trying to find the right angle to reach all of this. I’ve climbed ledges and dangled screams, watched dripped hollers hold onto exposed bricks, begging to be let back up. In the midst of love-making, I somehow felt the need to throw away the parts of me that have misbehaved. Everything I need may be inside me but some of it hides and some of it has curdled. How to get past all of that and closer to rebirth.